


Revenge Served Cold

by Thornofthelily



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Ice Skating, M/M, Mentions of Blood, a little bit of goro angst as a treat, goro spends an afternoon fantasizing about killing ren in an ice skating arena, poor descriptions of figure skating elements, show offy ren, this is basically just a secret yuri on ice au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28207152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thornofthelily/pseuds/Thornofthelily
Summary: When the day arrives, Goro plans to meet Ren in Asakusa. He’d spent two days at the library reading about ice skating, watching videos of famous ice skaters like Yuzuru Hanyu, planning to impress Ren with at least his technical knowledge even if both of them eat shit on the ice. By the time he pays his entrance fee and rents a pair of battered old skates, he spots Ren standing just outside of the rink itself, near the reception area, stretching out his arms and legs with his back to Goro. Ren’s standing on one foot, stretching out his calf by pulling his ankle flush to his backside. Goro does not stare, and he does not entertain the brief glimpse of what else that flexibility could be useful for. (Phantom Thief escapades, Palace infiltrations,redacted.)Then Ren lifts his fucking leg over his fucking head.----Written for the 21+ akeshuake server yuletide event! Prompt: Ice Skating
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 6
Kudos: 129
Collections: 21 plus akeshuake server yuletide 2020 event





	Revenge Served Cold

“Ice skating.” Goro’s inflection implies irritation, not a question.

“Yeah, apparently there’s a rink near Skytree!” Despite the compressed, false digital copy of his voice through the phone, Ren’s unusually bubbly tone pierces Goro’s skull. He sounds so genuinely excited in a way he’d never heard before, and it’s giving Goro a headache. Maybe he would have found it cute in July, but knowing Ren’s going to be dead by the end of the month puts a bit of a sour note to the whole affair. “Do you want to go with me, Akechi?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. He wants to demand why the hell he would do that, since he’s blackmailing him and all his friends and intends to (violently) end their little extra curricular activities, but he nobly refrains. “I’m afraid wouldn’t be very good at ice skating, Amamiya. I’ve never tried it before.”

A pause from Ren. Maybe he detected the irritation in his tone? “I’ve never been either,” he says finally, voice back to that soft, shy tone Goro’s more used to. He can’t believe how meek and quiet his rival acts in the real world, compared to suave, cool, ~~sexy~~ Joker. “But I’ve always wanted to. There wasn’t a rink in my home town. How about it?”

In those last few words, his tone hardens, a glimmer of his Metaverse self shining through the receiver. It’s a challenge, a _dare._ Damn him. Goro sighs. “What time?”

Goro can hear the smile in his answer, almost picture him dancing on the balls of his feet. This Friday. Three days. Plenty of time to do some research and make sure he doesn’t make a _complete_ ass of himself.

When the day arrives, Goro plans to meet Ren in Asakusa. He’d spent two days at the library reading about ice skating, watching videos of famous ice skaters like Yuzuru Hanyu, planning to impress Ren with at least his technical knowledge even if both of them eat shit on the ice. By the time he pays his entrance fee and rents a pair of battered old skates, he spots Ren standing just outside of the rink itself, near the reception area, stretching out his arms and legs with his back to Goro. He’s dressed a little warmer than the November weather outside demands: light, tight-fitting jacket, fingerless gloves, and thick, skin-hugging black tights, skates already on.

They don’t look like the same battered rental pair clutched in Goro’s fist. They look new, dark black boots with red laces, the blades capped with white and red plastic covers to protect the floor. Ren’s standing on one foot, stretching out his calf by pulling his ankle flush to his backside. Goro does not stare, and he does not entertain the brief glimpse of what else that flexibility could be useful for. (Phantom Thief escapades, Palace infiltrations, _redacted._ )

Then Ren lifts his fucking leg over his fucking head.

He starts off just hiking his foot further up towards the small of his back, an impressive but not impossible stretch, and his fingers move from his ankle to catch under the blade, holding his foot steady as he lifts and lifts. He just keeps going, arching over his curving spine as he chest bends beautifully into the stretch, until his heel nearly touches the base of his skull, leg curled over his back like a scorpion tail. Goro swallows down the wetness gathering in his mouth.

This fucking _bastard._

Goro has every intention of returning his skates unused and storming off when Ren, apparently feeling the heat of Goro’s fury, finally notices him. Well, now he _can’t_ leave, not with Ren watching. The bastard drops his leg with a sheepish grin, like he wasn’t just showing off and posing and preening and he probably _knew_ Goro’s been here the whole time, fucking smarmy piece of shit – “Would you believe this was all from gymnastics training with Kasumi?”

Goro narrows his eyes, stomping up to Ren with more force than he intends, his rictus smile almost a scowl. He can’t even manage the usual Detective Prince politeness, and he’s already _dangerously_ close to revealing too much of his real self, but he won’t give that to Ren, not yet, not until he can have the final word. “Oh really, Amamiya? You’ve certainly gained a great deal of flexibility in the six or so months you’ve known her.”

Ren has the decency to look contrite. “I may have also had a little bit of practice before coming to Tokyo.”

Goro’s eyebrow twitches. “Ah, I thought you said you had never done ice skating before, but I suppose gymnastics is similar enough.”

Ren flushes a little, fiddling with his hair in that infuriating ~~yet endearing~~ way of his. “Well, I might have lied a bit, too. It’s true I’ve never been to _this_ rink, but I have skated in the past.”

Fucking figures. “And the story of your hometown?” Goro can’t keep the venom from his voice.

“That part wasn’t a lie!” His eyes are big and innocent behind his glasses. “But there was one in the next town over that I went to sometimes. Just a small one. I figured the one in Asakusa would be a big deal, so I got excited. It’s been too long since I’ve skated.”

Goro deserves a fucking medal for keeping the naked derision from his face, and forces a smile instead. Fucking Amamiya Ren, always getting what he wants out of life. Parents to take him to practices, buy him skates, probably pay for instructors. All just reminders of things Goro never had the chance to even ask for, couldn’t have ever dreamed of. “Well, I’m afraid you have me at a bit of a disadvantage, then. Go easy on the newbie, please!”

His gray eyes flash like steel for a moment. “Of course, Akechi.”

Goro doesn’t like the Joker he hears in Ren’s voice.

Inside the rink area, just off the ice, Ren watches Goro sit on a bench and lace up his skates. Ren’s face contorts with minute tics, like he’s somehow _tying his skates_ the wrong way, if that’s even possible. Ren’s fingers twitch like he wants to bat Goro’s hands aside and do it himself, but Goro would rather shoot him right here in front of all these families and Shido himself than let Ren lace up his goddamn ice skates.

When Goro finishes, Ren pops off the covers of his skates, and even slips off his glasses, and Goro’s heart convulses when _Joker_ steps onto the ice and takes off, gliding effortlessly like he’s flying.

Goro can’t _wait_ to kill this bastard in a couple weeks.

Ren easily laps the whole rink by the time Goro takes his first hesitant step and immediately has to grab for the slides, holding himself up on wobbly legs like a newborn deer. Goro desperately wishes that whatever god granted him his personas would also grant him a moment of Olympian skating skill if only so he could “accidentally” slit Ren’s throat with his toe pick.

“You seem experienced for someone who hasn’t done this for a while,” Goro grits out through bared teeth.

Ren’s smug face would look so much better ground into the fucking dirt. “Well I was never certified by the JSF, but I did decently at local juniors’ competitions.”

 _Eat shit and die, Amamiya._ “You certainly live up to your reputation, Joker,” he hisses, his rage completely unmodulated. “Well-played.”

Ren laughs, almost shy, like he gave him a compliment. Motherfucker. Then he gives Goro an appraising look. “You really haven’t done this before, have you?”

“Some of us know when to tell the truth.”

He can’t stop the words from leaving his mouth, and it’s the wrong thing to say. A shadow passes over Ren’s face, light fading from his eyes and lips drawn tight. Goro’s heart clenches in a vice, and he wants to reach both hands into his chest and pry his ribs apart for daring to react with such weak disappointment. Ren has already seen hints of Goro’s true, broken, irrevocably damaged self. Knows he is capable at least of blackmail and lying. So why does it hurt so bad to see that playful spark dim between them?

Ren glances around. Looks at some young people skating alone, some kids with their parents, a few adolescents clearly practicing a routine of some kind. “I suppose you’re right. I was lying a little, because I thought you wouldn’t show up if you knew I was a better skater than you.”

He’s not being mean about it; if Ren competed even a little bit, of course Goro would be outmatched, but his words still send a sharp sting into his heart. It hurts even more knowing he’s right. Why did Ren even care if he showed up? Did he just want to embarrass him? Show off all the extra advantages and love and attention he got growing up so he could get halfway decent at a sport? He’s _seen_ Goro, he knows Goro isn’t perfect, isn’t lovable, isn’t anything but a lost child who schemed his way to success. Why did it matter to him if the man he’s planning to kill is better at him at something he never cared about in the first place?

The answer, of course: it’s because it’s _Ren._ Goro can’t lose face to Ren, no matter what. He hates himself for it, but he still wants to be perfect for him.

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” Goro jumps when Ren reads his mind. “I guess I just... wanted to impress you.”

What good could that possibly do? Why would Ren care if Goro was impressed by him? He must realize that Goro would only hate him more when he couldn’t keep up. Besides, seeing him as Joker is plenty impressive. Seeing the way he stretched, the way his body moves… it’s nothing. Goro’s not impressed, even a little bit. It’s not like Goro planned to one-up him by rattling off ice-skating facts he’d crammed for like he was prepping for his college entrance exams. “Why?” He swallows the venom in his heart, and he without it, he just sounds tired.

Ren blinks. “I thought it would be fun.”

Goro can hear his dentist chastise him for all his teeth-clenching. Despite all his secret desires to be perfect, flawless, unflappable and unbeatable in front of Ren, he always brings out Goro’s flaws and imperfections. “Fun to see how pathetic I am? To see your rival falling over himself because he had neither the time nor the considerate family to take him out for a family day at the rink?”

Ren blinks even more, faster, his dull human way of showing surprise or confusion. “No, I just thought-” His mouth snaps shut, his face contorts for an instant, then he grabs for Goro’s gloved hands. “Just come on.”

Goro would never admit to the noise he made when Ren pulled him from the safety and security of the wall, and suddenly nothing supported his weight except these damn slippery blades on his feet and Ren, and he didn’t know which he trusted least.

“Just hold on,” Ren speaks in a horrifically calm voice like he’s trying to soothe a wounded animal. “Don’t be afraid to fall. Even I fall sometimes. Once you stop being afraid you can move with more confidence.”

“I’m not _afraid_ ,” Goro hisses, desperately clinging to Ren’s shoulder. When did he grab his shoulder?

“Of course not,” Ren hums, expression carefully neutral. But Goro’s close enough to notice the tiniest uptick at the corner of his mouth. “Come on, Akechi. One foot in front of the other. Just like walking.” Ren glides forward, and Goro has to follow or lose his only lifeline. He feels like a brick dragged through a swamp. It doesn’t take long before his first fall, Ren slipping a little too fast in front of him, his fingers scrabbling on air, leaving him leaning too far forward, so he jerks himself backwards to overcompensate and he falls flat on his butt.

It hurts. Ren purses his lips together to hide his laughter, but his shaking shoulders give him away. Goro should just leave. He can’t imagine how much worse this will affect his popularity. Someone probably already snapped a picture of the suave Detective Prince breaking his ass in public while some teenage scumbag laughs at him. More unworthy swine seeing him break, seeing him fail, seeing him at his worst. This is _exactly_ what Ren wanted when he called him out, expose him as a fraud, have fun _laughing_ at him—

A hand in front of his face. Knit black gloves and slim pale fingers. Goro’s brow furrows. Something’s off with that.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh.” Ren’s apology sucks because he’s _still_ grinning, even as he helps Goro regain his shaky feet. “But see? Now you’ve fallen once. Don’t you feel better?”

Weirdly enough, yeah. He’s already humiliated himself once, what’s a thousand more falls and a lifetime of Ren’s merciless laughter? He’s surprised he can skate alongside Ren now without needing his hand held, although he’s still comfortably within reach of the wall. Sometimes Ren flips around and skates backwards so he can face Goro and talk, and Goro wonders how he never runs over anyone. Ren explains how beginners usually stick to the walls, just doing simple laps at the edges, and the middle is for experienced skaters doing various tricks, or “elements,” he calls them. Goro knows the names of all the jumps and lots of the spins, watched videos late last night until he could identify them on sight, but Ren describes them by their feelings, by their energy.

“I like jumps. My coach used to yell at me because they were too flashy and I never got enough rotation. Honestly, the spinning always made me dizzy. But racing down the ice and feeling the wind whip past me, then taking off into the air, getting as much height as possible, it’s as much like flying as I think I’ll ever get.” His eyes twinkle in the bright arena lights. Goro’s never heard him talk so much. “Step sequences are fun, too. I danced some fun jazzy bits years ago that required me to know some ballet moves, too. I don’t know if I could do them on flat ground, but it feels so natural here.”

“You skated to jazz?”

Ren’s smile has no right to be that soft and knowing. What the hell did he think he was hinting at? “Yeah. They’re always high energy numbers. A lot of elements, movement, speed. They were my favorite routines.”

“Show me.” Goro’s words come out as a dare, even as his heart races faster than this light exercising requires. If he could see Joker – no, _Ren_ – pull off some of the moves he studied... quick, acrobatic, lithe Ren, moving like that, in the real world...

Well, it would be good research. Knowing everything his rival, his opponent, his target could do before he takes him down for good. Ren’s smile curls up next to his heart and doesn’t go away. “Sure. It’s a little crowded, but I’ll see what I can do.”

Ren frees himself from Goro’s grip (why was he still holding on to his elbow?) and skates towards the middle of the rink. He smiles and waves to some of the kids practicing, exchanges a couple polite words with the instructor. Then he shoots Goro a look that burns all the way through his warm clothes and settles like fire in his stomach. He starts to race toward Goro, keeping their eyes locked as he gains speed. He makes a brief lap around the middle, and as he rounds the turn, the fucker _winks_ at Goro before he whirls around on his right leg, the toe of his left slamming into the ice mid-rotation, kicking him up off the ice. Ren tucks in his arms and spins- Goro counts two revolutions- before landing back on his right foot with a flourish. The wild, fierce look of pride on his face reaches Goro long before Ren skates up to him.

“How about that?”

Goro swallows down hot, bitter jealousy. He can picture it so clearly. Young, wide-eyed Ren, showing off for his parents, doing flips and stretches and spins and loops, making them proud, winning over judges at his competitions. The people who loved him. The people who made his life fun. Goro holds his fury in his fists as he smiles like a shark. “A double toe loop? Not too bad, but my understanding is that’s the easiest move to pull off. You must be from a smaller town than I thought if simple techniques like _that_ got you enough technical points to win anything. Well, maybe your program score made up for your lack of technical."

The pride in Ren’s eyes fade. _Good._ Much better when they’re filled with the irritated spark of rivalry. “Wow, impressive. I didn’t think you knew about skating competitions.”

Goro smiles blithely. “Well, everything in life is some kind of competition, isn’t it, Amamiya? It’s only natural I would brush up on the rules and elements to the sport before I arrived here.”

Ren lightly checks Goro’s shoulder, and he squawks and scrabbles for the edges before he slips again. He nearly cusses Ren out, but a young kid skates by, holding his mother’s hand, and he bites his tongue until he tastes blood. For now, he settles for a glare that could eat through lead. “I’m just getting warmed up,” Ren threatens brightly.

Returning to the middle of the rink, he watches Ren weave through the other skilled skaters as he carefully performs for Goro, trying to impress his rival even as he white-knuckles the edge of the wall. Goro already considers that a victory, Ren working so hard to show off while Goro doesn’t have to risk chipping a tooth. Goro’s advantage is his sharp mind, and he matches up the various elements he recognizes Ren perform and catalogs them for critiquing later.

A layback Ina Bauer, stretching out his long torso and limbs in an elegant sprawl. A spread eagle, defiant smug face like he’s already declaring his own victory. A slick step sequence that has him practically tap dancing around the rink, digging in his toe pick and leaving arcing icy mist in his wake. Even a flying sit spin, where Ren leaps into the air, catching his outstretched left leg and landing in a crouch, spinning wildly, faster and faster as he drops the leg and slowly stands, pulling his arms tight to his chest and spinning and spinning and spinning until he eventually slows, stops, and twirls off.

He assumes that would be Ren’s grand finale, his finishing move, and Goro desperately racks his brain for anything he did wrong, any criticism based on his scant knowledge, but honestly Ren is _good,_ he might not have all the jumps and quads of a professional but he’s better than most. The amateurs long ago gave him space to do whatever he wants, and now several people have stopped skating just to watch Ren. _Even here, even now, people are falling in love with Ren. The charisma and charm I’ve tried my whole life to cultivate, he displays with a few fancy fucking flips and has the admiration of strangers. But remember, Ren, I will be the one to kill you. I will take that love and admiration and respect from you. I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you..._

Ren stares down Goro from the far end of the rink, and it’s like there’s no one else in the room, in the whole world. The Phantom Thief Leader, the man Akechi Goro will kill very soon, glides towards him, almost flying. Time slows down. A moment where Ren’s body tenses. He’s planning something. His knee bends slightly, facing forward, and Goro’s brain races at the speed of light, tracking his every movement. _Forward approach, outside edge. Only one jump is executed on a forward approach._

Ren launches himself in the air to perform an Axel. He spins once, twice- _he’s trying for a triple Axel! That asshole, that’s the hardest jump to do, and he’s already been showing off so much –_ but halfway through his third turn, Goro realizes he has no more airtime. He’s falling. His legs aren’t in position. He lands on one blade, still spinning, and his legs fly out from under him.

Goro gets to watch Ren eat shit in front of the entire arena. Ren crashes beautifully, and he hears a crunch as Ren’s face hits ice.

There are gasps across the arena, some people anxiously leaning to see if he’s okay, others quickly skating off pretending they never saw anything. Goro forces himself to swallow down the hysterical laughter threatening to overtake him. He has to make sure Ren is okay – he’d rather not rework his plans because Ren stupidly died showing off in a skating rink. But that would require him to actually _skate._

Taking a deep breath, Goro unlatches his hands from the ledge and cautiously pushes himself forward. Ignoring the drop of his stomach when he loses his connection to solid ground, he shuffles towards Ren, who is limply pushing himself up off the ice. A smear of pink ice puddles underneath him, blood pouring freely from his nose. Red drips over his lips, down his chin, and he wipes his mouth with the back of his gloves. Goro realizes what confused him earlier – he’s used to seeing Ren with red gloves, not black.

He looks better in red. Especially his own blood.

Goro doesn’t laugh, but he does smirk at Ren when he finally reaches him, holding out a hand. “Well, I am officially impressed. Even I don’t think I could have crashed so hard.”

Ren tongues a swell on his upper lip where he seemed to have cut himself on his teeth, and Goro swallows past a momentary but batshit thought of licking the spot, too. Ren eyes Goro, then places his hand in his. He has 0.12 seconds to wonder why this situation feels wrong, and then Ren yanks him down hard and Goro shrieks as his head is about to kiss the ice.

And fucking _Ren,_ stupid suave smooth gentleman thief, catches Goro in his chest and pulls him into an embrace. Before Goro can rip off his skate and slit him from navel to nape, employees of the rink approach them to make sure Ren is okay and to contain his bleeding. They pull Ren off the ice and Goro manages to escape the rink with his dignity and bones in one piece.

Goro sits with Ren while employees administer first aid, wiping down his face and applying tiny butterfly-shaped bandages to the cut on his lip and over his nose, even though he’s not obviously cut there. Ren, polite, demure Ren, keeps apologizing and telling them he’s fine, not to worry, he’s okay, he’s sorry for bleeding on the ice ( _ugh_ ). _Wait till the end of the month,_ Goro thinks with a vicious fire in his gut that has nothing to do with the smear of pink on Ren’s canines or the way his tongue keeps worrying at his lip. _I’ll paint you in red myself. You’ll drown in blood and I’ll get to see even more of you, red and bleeding just for me_ – _then we’ll see who’s better. I’ll win. I’ll beat you, Amamiya Ren, and you’ll have no more power over me._

Goro runs a gloved hand through his hair, trying to smother away these damn intrusive thoughts. “Akechi?” Ren’s carefully guards his expression behind the gleam of his re-applied glasses. “Something wrong?”

Goro offers a perfect TV smile in response. _I’m going to kill you, Ren. You’ll look so beautiful covered in your own blood. You’ll die as part of my plan, then I can own you, all to myself, now and forever, streaked in a gorey red mess… then you’ll never smile like that again, never push me like that again, never challenge me like that… again._ “Nothing at all, Ren. Everything is fine.”


End file.
